


Advanced Tutoring

by ZombieZombie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Byleth is bad at 'Normal', Dorothea can't speak this fic because she is enjoying living too much, Edelgard has only two modes: worried gay and powerful gay, F/F, Fluff, Nothing says Lesbians better than Sparring Together, Post-Time Skip, Red Eagle Route, Sparring, a little dash of angst, i forgot the term for 'not yet officially a couple but still very obvious', ships in the background too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieZombie/pseuds/ZombieZombie
Summary: There are few people who can match Byleth’s skill with any saber. Fewer still could match Edelgard’s might with an axe. The two of them, fighting side? Nothing stands in their way, not even the Gods themselves. Was it simply superior teaching that took these two women to this level, or was there something else beyond that?In this story, the kid gloves come off.





	1. Chapter 1

“Professor, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Byleth simply smiles at Edelgard, before swiftly pointing her rapier at the other. For once, the Empress of Andrastia looks… uncertain, even with an iron axe in hand. Does her teacher, her friend, her right hand woman… want her to strike her with an axe? A bladed axe? The professor simply wiggled her rapier at her once again, as if insistent on having her take the strike. This doesn’t move Endelgard forward. In fact, it merely makes her eyes narrow.

“I know I am not just any student anyone, yes,” she begins, letting the axe head hit the tile floor below her, “but I am not going to get ourselves injured, during wartime, over something as simple as training. I am certain that wooden weapons, or simply studying form and stance would still be adequate.”

All that rant elicits from Byleth is a roll of the eyes. She makes a come hither motion at her, and draws her rapier back, taking a stance as if she was ready to lunge forward at the woman in red. Edelgard is still not taking this seriously, looking down at the woman as if she has lost her mind in that five year absence. The blade simply wobbles in front of her.

“... Professor. You know that we shouldn’t do this. Not to mention, if Hubert was to witness this, which he most certainly  _ is _ , he would absolutely rend you to ruin. You are far too important to the Empire… and to me, for anything to happen to you. So please, Professor, let’s stop this charade an-”

Reacting before she could finish, the rapier thrusts barely misses her ornate horn accessory, Byleth slowly stepping back to prepare another strike. All the while, a devious grin is bright across her face, taking delicate steps around the Empress to try and corner her. This not being her first battle, Edelgard circles in turn, but dares not to raise her axe against her teacher.

“Professor, I-” Swipe “I really do not think this is a sm-” Swipe “Please, Hubert wi-” Swipe, swipe, swipe! Professor was not going to take no for an answer, and it’s clear that nothing is going to wipe that silly look off of her face while swinging the steel rapier in front of her. Edelgard was easily moved from side to side of the sparring room, and before she knew it, she had to start deflecting and guiding strikes away from her core. She didn’t notice it, but her professor started smiling in ernest. 

This continued for a minute, before Byleth started pulling extra tricks up her sleeve. Or, well, it wasn’t a trick, it was a kick to the back of Edelgard’s leg. She stumbles forward, and narrowly avoids a deadly slice of the blade. The powerful Empress gives a look of surprise and shock, while Byleth is still just happy and smiling. With just a smug little shrug, she points her rapier right back at the betrayed looking woman.

Her brow furrows, Edelgard forgoes all words and simply grabs the blade by her hand. Caught off guard by the sudden change of demeanor, the professor tumbles forward, and the Empress counters this with a swift elbow to the face. Turns out, all of those lectures she gave on Brawling is starting to bite Byleth in the rear, as her rapier flies off and out of her hand. Now, Edelgard has her turn, drawing her axe and turning the blade towards herself.

“If you are going to lay your hands on me, or try to strike me down, I have no other choice than to defend myself! Do not underestimate your greatest pupil, Byleth!” There is a special feeling that comes to the professor when Edelgrad uses her name, but that feeling quickly changes when she starts swinging the axe towards her which requires a few quick dodges and a roll to try and secure her fallen weapon. The Empress was now playing bodyguard to the disowned rapier, and she played her part well.

It looks like the professor is going to have to put her pupil to the test, then. Fists up and in front, Byleth throws lightning quick jabs towards Edelgard, who does her best to deflect each one with the wooden pole of the axe. The quick mix-up of a kick to her thigh makes the Empress wince, but accomplishes little else… besides exposing a potential weakness. Another series of jabs, and the professor spins to gain momentum for a furious kick. Edelgard attempts to block it, but in doing so she falls for the trap itself; the fast traveling shin simply snaps the axe in half at the pole, rendering it useless!

Edelgard is… speechless, looking from her axe back up to her professor. Her professor, meanwhile, just shoots her a wink, before resuming her brawling stance and advances on her position! Throwing the broken shaft aside, Edelgard goes to swing the axe head at her teacher, but she had already maneuvered past her to obtain her rapier once again. Once again, they circle one another, waiting for any sort of opening. Byleth was still incredibly smug about the whole scenario, and despite all they have gone through, Edelgard is starting to find it irritating.

The professor was too amused by teasing Edelgard to take her charge seriously, as she smacks the rapier aside to make a swipe at Byleth. It barely connects, but it connects enough to dramatically slash down the professor’s jacket. A pause falls on the sparring field, with Byleth looking down at her jacket amiss, and then glaring a hole straight through Edelgard. Renewed with vengeance over her fallen jacket, she lunges straight towards the Empress, merely stabbing holes in her cape before she could respond in turn. With her blade caught in the cloth, Edelgard knees her professor in the chest, sending them staggering backwards and out of breath. Taking this opportunity while it is available, she grabs the rapier with her free hand.

“If I didn’t care for you,” she states, raising the rapier closer to the light, “I would snap this over my knee. Do you know how much stress this gives me, you waving this limp rod of steel in my face? It’s not the treatment an Empress deserves.” She points the rapier back down at Byleth, only now getting back up to her feet. “You know, I liked you better on your knees. If you are going to be insistent with this fight, I will have t-”

Byleth puts her whole body into a kick that just barely misses Edelgard, but knocks her axe free out of her hand and into the air. As if it was simply instinct to her, she catches damaged axe, and ready it to strike. Wiping the sweat from her face, she swipes her own nose with her thumb, and gestures her to come hither. The Empress narrows her eyes in contempt, but nonetheless charges forward.

Despite swapping weapons, the two of them seamlessly change styles and follow back into the flow of combat. The smaller hilt makes the axe harder to wield, but the wider, heavy swipes are enough to send the Empress sliding backwards. But for every swipe, she is able to slice and stab at the professor, even going as far as to leave tiny cuts on the outside of her arms. Glancing blows were plenty, but no one could land a solid shot, as the fight strains onward. Exhaustion begrets inaccuracy, and inaccuracy creates flaws. Edelgard goes to stab, and her rapier digs deep into a wooden pillar, unable to budge.

Byleth, finding her opportunity, slams her axe down, and the Empress rolls out of the way just in the nick of time. The professor swings wildly towards the pillar, and Edelgard does her best to dodge and weave around any attack. She dives for the broken hilt that laid on the floor, and tucks to roll across the floor. As Byleth rounds the room’s pillar, Edelgard would strike, hitting the professor in her side, and then again across her back. The axe clatters down to the ground, as the injured professor attempts to strike back. Blows fly, even smacking across the Empress’ face, but soon her luck would run out. A vice grip lands on Byleth’s wrist, and with an angered grunt of strength, tosses the woman to the ground.

There was no chance for her to get back on her feet, as a black boot steps on her chest. The splintered pole is pointed straight at her face.

“You’re luck has run out, Professor.” The Empress stated, staring down the trapped woman. Exerted, exhausted, but exuberant, the lilac colored eyes made direct contact with faded jade, wavering at the vulnerability of the situation. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she states once again, with the full authority of an Empress. “Do you accept defeat? Or do you wish to suffer my wrath again?”

A silence falls over the both of them. Uncertainty creeps in. The only sound that could be heard was their collective panting, their bodies desperate for respite. 

Byleth giggles. It catches Edelgard by surprise, taking a step back in unconscious caution. All of the caution in Fódlan could not prepare her for what would happen next, as the professor leaps backs up onto her feet, and full body tackles the Empress. Her arms squeeze tightly around the woman’s waist, and her head buried into her shoulder. She pulls back just a bit, to look at the bewildered Edelgard, staring into her eyes and beams the most sincere, happy smile that she could muster.

“I am so proud of you, Edie.”

Such gentle words, from such a tender voice, were sharper than any blade that pierced Edelgard’s skin. Her face burns in emotion, quickly looking away to try and regain composure. How could the tables be turned so quickly, from complete victory to at the whims of the enemy? All Edie can do is just, wrap her arms back around her professor, who is still giggling like a fool and burying herself in the woman’s embrace.

“Don’t-, You were just at my throat a moment ago, drawing blood and wounding the both of us, how can you be so chipper and happy?”

Her response is to simply shrug, her gentle voice conflicting with the fervor of battle not too long ago. “It’s simple training. Strong knights need even stronger training. You passed.” Even the might of Edelgard’s words pale in comparison to Byleth, who speaks so exactly and succinctly that it cuts through any wall or armor someone could have built. Is that why she always had such an affinity and fascination with sabers and rapiers, even with the power of a Crest at hand?

Edelgard sighs softly, causing Byleth to look up once again. In turn, a red glove runs through bright seafoam hair, idly playing with strands as she speaks. “You are the most complex puzzle I have ever met, and the only one I still wish to solve regardless. Though, I will insist that next time, we fight with… perhaps a bit lower quality armaments. The last thing we need is to ruin weaponry that we are comfortable with.”

Byleth raises a finger, wiggling it gently. “You should get comfortable with better weaponry. That old axe was on its deathbed, and you know it.” The professor was content to stand her for a little bit, embracing the woman, but the heat from one another and the heat from the training was starting to get unbearable. She separates from the Empress, taking a red gloved hand, does a bow and kisses the back of her hand. A soft huff or scoff is heard, and a wry smile forms on her lips once again.

“Shall I meet you for an early lunch, your Majesty?”

“You may, but first fetch your jacket and a clean order of clothes. If we are going to spend anymore time together tonight, I refuse for any of us to be drenched in sweat and their garments in tatters. It is my decree.”

“As you wish, your Majesty, this mere commoner is at your beck and call.”

A grunt is heard, and Byleth could barely contain her amusement. Even when she pushes her buttons, the professor has a kind, wonderful heart, and it was a treasured gift for Edelgard to be exposed to it so often. She only wishes that her tongue was only as sharp as her rapier, perhaps then she could stand a chance against her!

What did she ever do to earn such a wonderful person by her side?


	2. Paralogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not too far away, a rambunctious rabble gathers.

“How… dare you attempt to stop me… from doing… my job!”

Hubert von Vestra, right hand of the Empress, her most proud, ardent, and capable supporter, was in quite a situation. To his left flank, pulling his left arm, stood Ferdinand von Aegir, and opposite to him was Petra Macneary, pulling his right. Underneath the two of them was a scrappy blue haired man named Caspar von Bergliez, who had clamped down both of the brooding noble’s legs. Spectating this affair was Dorothea Arnault and Lindhardt von Hevring, who were either not interested in aiding, or believed the situation was properly handled.

Slowly sliding across the floor, Caspar was the first to reply. “We… can’t have you blowing up teach now…! She… only just came back! She’s going to help us… win…”

“Hubert, you fiend,” Ferdinand added, “you are acting irrationally! If there is anyone you can trust, it is the professor! When has she ever done us wrong?”

Petra… well, she didn’t say anything. Bernadetta already fled the scene, and concerned glances to the peanut gallery were met with amused giggles and a yawn. In return, she sighs to fight off a yawn and continues to pull the brooding man back. Only then was the group distracted by the door opening, with Byleth and Edelgard leaving in high spirits close together. 

They go forward towards the barracks, as the onlookers freeze in their tracks. Whatever prattled among the two of them kept them well distracted, and paid the other Black Eagles no mind. They were in their own little world, absent of any war and strife. Caspar was the first one to come back to his senses, yelling a ferocious battle cry before yanking the legs out from underneath Hubert. The three of them; Petra, Ferdinand, and Hubert, would all collapse forward as Caspar pulls back up from behind. Hands on his hips, he is proud of his job.

Dorothea had to look away, as the carnival of chaos was growing too much for her lungs to bare. Lindhardt, true to himself, walks towards the group grounded in the grass, and kneels down beside them. His focus was on Hubert, but he demanded everyone’s attention with his presence and demeanor.

“Perhaps now that you are grounded for the first time in decades, mayhaps you give your Empress some credit and treat her like the adult she is?”

Caspar snorts behind him, and gives Lindhardt a harsh pat on the back that nearly topples the man over. Hubert, however, is not all that amused, and Ferdinand seems to be more focused on the grumpy noble than he is anyone else. Petra, seeing the situation as defused, stands up and brushes the grass off of her shorts.

“They might be heading to the dining hall, Hubert.” She stated, looking down at the man whose hatred could scorch the land around him. “I don’t think you will have the time to interrupt them anytime soon. Perhaps that is for the best? Use your time to do other thing, maybe read or go out for a walk.”

“Nonsense,” he snaps, mustard eyes glaring daggers, “I shall do my duty as hand of the throne, and I will not be stopped by anyone else. If anyone tries to stop me, I will end them faster than they could react!”

Most of the crowd rolls their eyes at that statement, while Ferdinand gets up to his feet and offers a hand down to Hubert. Surprisingly, he does take it. This catches the orange haired nobel off guard for a moment, before being able to properly reply.

“First of all,” he begins, crossing his arms defensively, “you know better than anyone that it is incredibly rude to intrude on a noble’s personal time, her Majesty or otherwise. Second, you are in no position to do such intrusion, as you now have dirt and grass stains all over your formal attire. Are you going to go into the Empress of Andrastia’s quarters, looking as if you were pulling onions mere moments ago?”

“I am perfectly able to clean and wash myself, Ferdinand,” Hubert replies, sneering in derision, “and rudeness can be apologized for if it is for a serious cause. Is the stability of Andrastia not that important to you, sire?”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he quips, gesturing him away with a free hand, “so please, wait your turn to speak. Lastly, I wish to have you accompany me for discussion, as both the professor and your Majesty has requested that I aid you in the fine craft of horseback riding. I implore you that you listen to their requests, instead of flying off on emotional flights of fancy.”

Behind the two of them, Dorothea finds it even harder to breathe, and is stumbling over to a brick wall to steady herself. Caspar give Lindhardt a gentle jab to the shoulder, and they too drift off to their own world. Petra… is gone? Or she must have left not too long ago. Regardless, Hubert grits his teeth and furrows his brow.

“And if this was simply an attempt to get our Majesty vulnerable?”

“Well, did you not just see her, walk plainly and fine after battling the professor? If the professor could beat any of us, and our Majesty can defeat our professor, isn’t she the safest with the two strongest people always by her side?”

There is a short pause. “You… are not afraid of horses, are you?”

“You are fond of having a death-wish, aren’t you? If you are this insistent on following the professor’s beck and call, then I suppose I have no choice. Do you insist I follow in such a disheveled state, as you call it?”

Ferdinand lowers his head and sighs, beckoning him to follow him. “Please, von Vestra, it will be the least of your worries. Now, please cease your bickering, and follow me. Act your age and act with dignity.” Despite being disgruntled at the present situation, perhaps spending time with Ferdinand is what he would need to calm himself down. He swallows his pride and his temper, and follows suit.

It’s just another afternoon in Garreg Mach.


End file.
